play with me at picquet upon the road for all I want. I am almoft fure to beat him, and his debts of honour I know he will pay. Then who can tell but I may ftill come back and conquer lady Packer? Sir, you need not print this laft fcheme, and, upon fecond thoughts, you may.-Oh distraction! the post-chaife is at the door. Sir, publish what you will, only let it be printed without

a name.

I

NUMB. 16. SATURDAY, May 12, 1750.

Multis dicendi copia torrens,

Et fua mortifera eft facundia-

Some who the depth of eloquence have found,
In that unnavigable ftream were drown'd.

SIR,

Juv.

DRYDEN.

AM the modeft young man whom you favoured with your advice, in a late paper; and, as I am very far from fufpecting that you forefaw the numberless inconveniencies which I have, by following it, brought upon myself, I will lay my condition open before you, for you feem bound to extricate me from the perplexities, in which your counsel, however innocent in the intention, has contributed to involve me.

You told me, as you thought, to my comfort, that a writer might easily find means of introducing his genius to the world, for the presses of England

The means of doing hurt to ourselves are always at hand. I immediately fent to a printer, and contracted with him for an impreffion of feveral thousands of my pamphlet. While it was at the prefs, I was feldom abfent from the printing-houfe, and continually urged the workmen to hafte, by folicitations, promifes, and rewards. From the day all other pleasures were excluded, by the delightful employment of correcting the fheets; and from the night fleep generally was banifhed, by anticipations of the happiness which every hour was bringing nearer.

At laft the time of publication approached, and my heart beat with the raptures of an author. I was above all little precautions, and, in defiance of envy or of criticifm, fet my name upon the title, without fufficiently confidering, that what has once paffed the prefs is irrevocable, and that though the printing-house may properly be compared to the infernal regions, for the facility of its entrance, and the difficulty with which authors return from it; yet there is this difference, that a great genius can never return to his former ftate, by a happy draught of the waters of oblivion.

1

I am now, Mr. Rambler, known to be an author, and am condemned, irreverfably condemned, to all the miseries of high reputation. The first morning after publication my friends affembled about me; I prefented each, as is ufual, with a copy of my book. They looked into the first pages, but were hindered, by their admiration, from reading further. The first pages are, indeed, very elaborate. Some paffages they particularly dwelt upon, as more eminently beautiful than the reft; and fome delicate ftrokes, and secret elegancies, I pointed out to them, which had escaped their obfervation. I then begged of them to forbear their compliments, and invited them, I could do no lefs, to dine with me at a tavern. After dinner, the book was refumed; but their praises very often fo much overpowered my modesty, that I was forced to put about the glass, and had often no means of repreffing the clamours of their admiration, but by thundering to the drawer for another bottle.

Next morning another fet of my acquaintance congratulated me upon my performance, with fuch importunity of praise, that I was again forced to obviate their civilities by a treat. On the third day, I had yet a greater number of applauders to put to filence in the fame manner; and, on the fourth, those whom I had entertained the first day came again, having, in the perufal of the remaining part of the book, discovered fo many forcible sentences and masterly touches, that it was impoffible for me to bear the repetition of their commendations. I, therefore, perfuaded them once more to adjourn to the tavern, and chufe. fome other fubject, on which I

might share in their converfation. But it was not in their power to withhold their attention from my performance, which had fo entirely taken poffeffion of their minds, that no entreaties of mine could change their topick, and I was obliged to ftifle, with claret, that praise which neither my modefty could hinder, nor my uneasiness reprefs.

The whole week was thus spent in a kind of literary revel, and I have now found that nothing is fo expenfive as great abilities, unless there is joined with them an infatiable eagerness of praise; for to elcape from the pain of hearing myself exalted above the greatest names dead and living of the learned world, it has already coft me two hogfheads of port, fifteen gallons of arrack, ten dozen of claret, and five and forty bottles of champagne.

I was refolved to ftay at home no longer, and, therefore, rofe early and went to the coffee-house ; but found that I had now made myself too eminent for happiness, and that I was no longer to enjoy the pleasure of mixing, upon equal terms, with the rest of the world. As foon as I enter the room, I fee part of the company raging with envy, which they endeavour to conceal, fometimes with the appearance of laughter, and fometimes with that of contempt; but the difguife is fuch that I can difcover the fecret rancour of their hearts, and as envy is defervedly its own punishment, I frequently indulge myself in tormenting them with my prefence.

But though there may be fome flight fatisfaction received from the mortification of my enemies, yet my benevolence will not fuffer me to take any pleasure in the terrors of my friends. I have been

cautious,

cautious, fince the appearance of my work, not to give myself more premeditated airs of fuperiority, than the most rigid humility might allow. It is, indeed, not impoffible that I may fometimes have laid down my opinion, in a manner that fhewed a conciousness of my ability to maintain it, or interrupted the converfation, when I faw its tendency, without fuffering the speaker to waste his time in explaining his fentiments; and, indeed, I did indulge myself for two days in a custom of drumming with my fingers, when the company began to lofe themselves in abfurdities, or to encroach upon fubjects which I knew them unqualified to difcufs. But I generally acted with great appearance of refpect, even to those whose stupidity I pitied in my heart. Yet, notwithstanding this exemplary moderation, fo univerfal is the dread of uncommon powers, and fuch the unwillingness of mankind to be made wiser, that I have now for fome days found myself fhunned by all my acquaintance. If I knock at a door, no body is at home; if I enter a coffee-house, I have the box to myself. I live in the town like a lion in his defert, or an eagle on his rock, too great for friendship or fociety, and condemned to folitude, by unhappy elevation and dreaded afcendancy.

Nor is my character only formidable to others, but burdenfome to myself, I naturally love to talk without much thinking, to scatter my merriment at random, and to relax my thoughts with ludicrous remarks and fanciful images; but such is now the importance of my opinion, that I am afraid to offer it, left, by being established too haftily into a maxim,